Tables Turned
by EternalShade
Summary: What would have happened if Eragon was captured at Helgrind? Will Eragon be forced to take arms along-side Murtagh? Betrayal is a common virtue in Eragon's family. No, I wont spoil the story by telling you if there's ExA, MxN, etc...
1. 1: Beginning of the End

**Ok, everyone. This is my first fic. I actually started this a year or so ago, and posted a few chapters on Inheritance Forum. Since IF has been down for quite some time, im going to repost and continue the story here. This first chapter is completely unoriginal and I give all credit to Christopher Paolini, along with the characters, locations, etc. This chapter is just to show you all where I'm starting off from. The next one will be from me though. Enjoy... :)**

**Beginning of the End**

…"Eragon's not on Saphira."

Nasuada's chest tightened, restricting her breathing. She peered upward: Saphira circled directly over the camp, some thousands of feet high. Her huge, bat-like wings were black against the sky. Nasuada could see Saphira's underside, and her talons white against the lapped scales of her belly, but nothing of whoever might be riding her.

"How do you know?" she asked, keeping her voice low.

"I cannot feel his discomfort, nor his fears. Roran is there, and a woman I guess is Katrina. No one else."

Straightening, Nasuada clapped her hands and said, "Jormundur!" allowing her voice to ring forth.

Jormundur, who was almost a dozen yards away, came running, shoving aside those who got in his way; he was experienced enough to know when an emergency was at hand. "My Lady."

"Clear the field! Get everyone away from here before Saphira lands."

"Including Orrin and Narheim and Garzhvog?"

She grimaced. "No, but allow no one else to remain. Hurry!"

As Jormundur began shouting orders, Arya and Angela converged upon Nasuada. They appeared as alarmed as she felt. Arya said, "Saphira would not be so calm if Eragon was hurt or dead."

"Where is he, then?" demanded Nasuada. "What trouble has he gotten himself into now?"

A raucous commotion filled the clearing as Jormundur and his men directed the onlookers back to their tents, laying about them with swagger sticks whenever the reluctant warriors lingered or protested. Several scuffles broke out, but the captains under Jormundur quickly overwhelmed the culprits, so as to prevent the violence from taking root and spreading. Fortunately, the Urgals, at the word of their war chief, Garzhvog, left without incident, although Garzhvog himself advanced toward Nasuada, as did King Orrin and the dwarf Narheim.

Nasuada felt the ground tremble under her feet as the eight-and-a-half-foot-tall Urgal approached her. He lifted his bony chin, baring his throat as was the custom of his race, and said, "What means this, Lady Nightstalker?" The shape of his jaws and teeth, coupled with his accent, made it difficult for Nasuada to understand him.

"Yes, I'd bloody well like an explanation myself," said Orrin. His face was red.

"And I," said Narheim.

It occurred to Nasuada, as she regarded them, that this was probably the first time in thousands of years that members of so many of the races of Alagaesia had gathered together in peace. The only ones missing were the Ra'zac and their mounts, and Nasuada knew no sane being would ever invite those foul creatures into their secret councils. She pointed at Saphira and said, "She shall provide the answers you desire."

Just as the last stragglers quit the clearing, a torrent of air rushed across Nasuada as Saphira swooped to the ground, raking her wings to slow herself before alighting upon her rear legs. She dropped to all fours, and a dull boom resounded across the camp. Unbuckling themselves from her saddle, Roran and Katrina quickly dismounted.

…Roran bowed to Nasuada and, swiveling, also to King Orrin. "My Lady," he said, his face grave. "Your Majesty. If I may, this is my betrothed, Katrina." She curtsied to them both.

"Welcome to the Varden, Katrina," said Nasuada. We have all heard your name here, on account of Roran's uncommon devotion. Songs of his love for you already spread across the land."

"You are most welcome," added Orrin "Most welcome indeed."

Nasuada noticed that the king had eyes only for Katrina, as did every man present, including the dwarves, and Nasuada was certain they would be recounting tales of Katrina's charms to their comrades-in-arms before the night was out. What Roran had done on her behalf elevated her far above ordinary women; it made her an object of mystery, fascination, and allure to the warriors. That anyone should sacrifice so much for another person meant, by reason of the price paid, that person must be unusually precious.

Katrina blushed and smiled. "Thank you," Along with her embarrassment at such attentions, a hint of pride colored her expression, as if she knew how remarkable Roran was and delighted in having captured his heart, of all the women in Alagaesia. He was hers, and that was all the status or treasure she desired.

A pang of loneliness shot through Nasuada. _I wish I had what they have_, she thought. Her responsibilities prevented her from entertaining girlish dreams of romance and marriage -and certainly children—unless she were to arrange a marriage of convenience for the good of the Varden. She had often considered doing that with Orrin, but her nerve always failed her. Still, she was content with her lot and did not begrudge Katrina and Roran their happiness. Her cause was what she cared about; defeating Galbatorix was far more important than something as trifling as marriage.

Most everyone got married, but how many had the opportunity to oversee the birth of a new age?

_I'm not myself this evening_, realized Nasuada. _My wounds have set my thoughts ahumming like a nest of bees_. Shaking herself, she looked past Roran and Katrina to Saphira. Nasuada opened up the barriers she usually maintained around her mind so she might hear what Saphira had to say and then asked: "Where is he?"

With a dry rustle of scales sliding over scales, Saphira crept forward and lowered her neck so her head was directly in front of Nasuada, Arya and Angela. The dragon's left eye sparkled with blue fire. She sniffed twice, and her crimson tongue darted out of her mouth. Hot, moist breath ruffled the lace collar on Nasuada's dress.

Nasuada swallowed as Saphira's consciousness brushed against her own. Saphira felt unlike any other being Nasuada had encountered: ancient, alien, and both ferocious and gentle. That along with Saphira's imposing physical presence, always reminded Nasuada that if Saphira wanted to eat them, she could. It was impossible, Nasuada believed, to be complacent around a dragon.

_I smell blood_, said Saphira. _Who has hurt you, Nasuada? Name them, and I shall tear them from neck to groin and bring you their heads for trophies._

"There is no need for you to tear anyone apart. Not yet, at least. I wielded the knife myself. However, this is the wrong time to delve into the matter. Right now, all I care about is Eragon's whereabouts."

_Eragon_, said Saphira, _decided to remain in the Empire._

For a few seconds, Nasuada was unable to move or think. Then a mounting sense of doom replaced her stunned denial of Saphira's revelation. The others reacted in various ways as well, from which Nasuada deduced Saphira had spoken to them all at once.

"How . . . how could you allow him to stay?" she asked.

Small tongues of fire rippled in Saphira's nostrils as she snorted. _Eragon made his own choice. I could not stop him. He insists upon doing what he thinks is right, no matter the consequences for him or the rest of Alagaesia. . . . I could shake him like a hatchling, but I'm proud of him. Fear not; he can take care of himself. So far, no misfortune has befallen him. I would know if he was hurt._

Arya spoke: "And why did he make this choice, Saphira?"

_It would be faster for me to show you rather than explain with words. May I?_

They all indicated their consent.

A river of Saphira's memories poured into Nasuada. She saw black Helgrind from above a layer of clouds; heard Eragon, Roran, and Saphira discussing how best to attack; watched them discover the Ra'zac's lair; and experienced Saphira's epic battle with the Lethrblaka. The procession of images fascinated Nasuada. She had been born in the Empire but could remember nothing of it; this was the first time as an adult that she had looked upon anything besides the wild fringes of Galbatorix's holdings.

Lastly came Eragon and his confrontation with Saphira. Saphira attempted to hide it, but the anguish she felt over leaving Eragon was still so raw and piercing, Nasuada had to dry her cheeks with the bandages on her forearms. However, the reasons Eragon gave for staying—killing the last Ra'zac and exploring the remainder of Helgrind—were reasons Nasuada deemed inadequate.

She frowned. _Eragon may be rash, but he's certainly not foolish enough to endanger everything we seek to accomplish merely so he could visit a few caves and drain the last bitter dregs of his revenge. There must be another explanation._ She wondered whether she should press Saphira for the truth, but she knew Saphira would not withhold such information on a whim. Perhaps she wants to discuss it in private, she thought.

"Blast it!" exclaimed King Orrin. "Eragon could not have picked a worse time to set off on his own. What matters a single Ra'zac when Galbatorix's entire army resides but a few miles from us? . . . We have to get him back.

Angela laughed. She was knitting a sock using five bone needles, which clicked and clacked and scraped against each other with a steady, if peculiar, rhythm. "How? He'll be traveling during the day and Saphira daren't fly around searching for him when the sun's up and anyone might spot her and alert Galbatorix."

"Yes, but he's our Rider! We cannot sit idly while he remains in the midst of our enemies."

"I agree," said Narheim. "However it is done we must ensure his safe return. Grimstnzborith Hrothgar adopted Eragon into his family and clam—that is mine own clan as you know—and we owe him the loyalty of our law and our blood."

Arya knelt and, to Nasuada's surprise, began to unlace and retie the upright section of her boots. Holding one of the cords between her teeth,  
Arya said, "Saphira, where exactly was Eragon when you lasted touched his mind?"

_In the entrance to Helgrind._

"And have you any idea what path he intended to follow?"

_He did not yet know himself._

Springing to her feet, Arya said, "Then I shall have to look everywhere I can."

Like a deer, she bounded forward and ran across the clearing, vanishing among the tents beyond as she sped northward as fast and light as the wind itself.

"Arya, no!" shouted Nasuada, but the elf was already gone. Hopelessness threatened to engulf Nasuada as she stared after her. The center is crumbling, she thought.

Grasping the edges of the mismatched pieces of armor that covered his torso as if to tear them off, Garzhvog said to Nasuada, "Do you want me to follow, Lady Nightstalker? I cannot run as fast as little elves, but I can run as long."

"No . . . no, stay. Arya can pass for human at a distance, but soldiers would hunt you down the moment some farmer caught sight of you."

"I am used to being hunted."

"But not in the middle of the Empire, with hundreds of Galbatorix's men wandering the countryside. No, Arya will have to fend for herself. I pray that she can find Eragon and keep him safe, for without him, we are doomed."

Copyright 2008 by Christopher Paolini.

**What do you think? Please leave a review and let me know. Next chapter up very soon.**


	2. 2: Tasteful Accommodations

**Here you are! The official first chapter. I realize this chapter is a bit short and ill try to be making my next chapters much longer. Until then, enjoy!**

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**Tasteful Accommodations**

The rain made the usually hard-packed and dusty dirt deteriorate and soften. It also gave Eragon's blistered feet a much-needed relief. The constant pounding of his feet made them bleed and the hot air had dried his throat and tongue, despite how much he drank. The moon highlighted the mud path he was sprinting on and made it much easier for his keen eyes to spot a patrolling soldier or a passing villager should he come across one. He was very careful to stay away from main roads and did not run as fast as he normally would, for that would cause unwanted attention.

With the day closing he relaxed his stride and slowed down to a steady jog to find a place to rest. He had, in fact, been running for two full days. Pulling away from the path, he made for the surrounding forest, grabbing sticks along the way for a fire. He piled up the sticks and said "Brisingr." The rain had no effect on the fire's glow.

Taking off his pack he sat down on the wet grass and leaned in attempting to warm himself. When he was satisfied he straightened up and decided to find something to eat. Reaching out with his mind he found a snake a few yards away and a couple rabbits which he promptly killed with magic.

He felt horrible for taking life, but knew that his need for survival was greater than theirs. He briefly held the creatures over the fire to cook and promptly sunk his teeth into the fatty meat of one of the rabbits. It was very greasy and the clumps of fat slowly dissolved in his mouth. Moving onto the snake he found that it didn't have much meat. Finished, but not as satisfied as he'd like he reclined onto the soft, wet grass and closed his eyes. He found it hard to sleep without Saphira, so he layed there with his eyes open for some time.

He was just on the verge of unconsciousness when there was a loud rustle in the brush next to him. He bolted into a seated position, the blood rushing to his head and making him dizzy. The fire had gone out. He reached out with his mind, feeling around the surrounding forest. His mind touched another's that seemed strangely familiar, but the mysterious person retracted their mind so quickly that he didn't get a chance to make certain who it was. Standing up and wishing he had had a weapon, he crept forward toward the bush to investigate, constantly probing into the darkness with his mind.

He was only a few feet from the bush when a silhouette jumped out and tackled him. He punched at the figure on top of him but the person caught his hand. _He's fast!_ Eragon thought, for he was able to stop Eragon's supernatural speed. A fist slammed into Eragon's face, splitting his lip and sending warm, metallic blood down his throat. Eragon shoved the man off of him, throwing him onto the still glowing ashes of his fire. He must have been wearing armor though for he jumped back up charged Eragon once more. He was ready though.

When the man was almost upon him, Eragon twisted to the side, grabbed his legs, and drove him to the ground. Before Eragon had a chance to do much more though, something large smacked him hard in the head and he went skidding several yards away.

His head exploded with pain, first from whatever had hit him, and second when his head landed on a large stone, and he was afraid we would fall into unconsciousness. He could hear the man converging upon him, but he was too dazed to do anything about it. When he looked at the ground by his head, it was covered in a small but growing pool of blood. But that wasn't what shocked him. What shocked him was that the stone he had slammed his head on was not a stone, but a large white claw connected to a far larger, ruby-red paw.

With a growing sense of dread he followed the paw up its arm and into the face of a snarling dragon. Thorn had grown even more since last they met, on account of Galbatorix's manipulation. His eyes reflected a deep loathing so intense, Eragon had to pull his eyes away. As he did the man-whom Eragon was almost certain was Murtagh-kicked Eragon's side, pushing him onto his back, and glared at him.

Eragon stabbed his mind out at Murtagh in an attempt to subdue him, but he was too powerful. He could feel the presence of many minds within Murtagh but he couldn't find their source. Thus, in a few short minutes Murtagh had already taken over Eragon's mind until all he could do was glare at Murtagh angrily. Murtagh grinned in triumph, and then abruptly turned sour.

"You've caused me a lot of pain, _brother._ Do you know how furious Galbatorix was with me and Thorn when we didn't bring you back to Uru'baen last time? He immediately slew five of his servants in his rage, then turned on Thorn and I."

Eragon didn't respond. He couldn't.

"You're elves aren't here to do your fighting for you now. Neither is Saphira. You must truly be the weakest Rider in existence. Don't worry, Galbatorix will help you change that, and Thorn and I will be forgiven in full when we bring you back to him, and rewarded beyond imagination," Thorn snorted at this. "Getting Saphira shouldn't be too hard, either. A little threat here, some coaxing there, and she'll be handing herself over in no time." he said with a smirk. "Don't be too disappointed. There's a lot of good in store for you. You should hear what Galbatorix has planned for Alagaesia.

With one last look at Eragon, he walked over to where Eragon had left his pack, grabbed it, tied it on Thorn, and said "Slytha."

The world went black.

When Eragon awoke his first feeling was of pain. He had a splitting headache from the night before. His hair was stiff and clumped with his own blood, and was laying on a rather soft pillow. Looking around, he was surprised he was not in a normal cell. The walls and ceiling of the room he was in seemed to be made of black marble. A black chandelier held ten candles that illuminated the room with a red, flickering glow. The bed he was on was very comfortable, and the large grated window above it let in a lot of the noonday light.

Getting up, he noticed he was wearing a loose white shirt and pants, and his ring and pack was missing.

_Where am I?_ Eragon wondered. He walked over to the door that had a small grated window and tried to open it, but it was locked. He tried opening it with magic but couldn't seem to tap into his energy store. _I must've been drugged_, he thought.

Eragon backed up to the other end of the room and ran straight at the door, attempting to smash it down. When he hit it, he bounced back and landed flat on his back, causing his headache to flair up, without even denting the dark wood. The door must have been enchanted.

Turning around to face his bed, he found on a table resting against the wall, a silver platter of grapes and bread and cheese, and a large mug of water. The sight reminded him of his hunger and he went over to eat. He assumed the drug was in the water, but when he smelled it, he didn't notice anything abnormal. _That's strange_, he thought. _Even before the Blood-oath Celebration had enhanced my senses I was able to smell the drug. Why not now?_

He pondered it for a moment, then decided the drug must not be in the water, and he drank deeply, grateful for the reprieve, and also noting that it tasted fine. After examining his food in the same manner, he ate that too and reclined back onto his bed to think.

_How could I have let this happen?_ he thought despairingly. _I was the Varden's only hope. . . . I've doomed them._

Just then, the door opened up and Murtagh came in with a pair of shackles and a smile on his face.

"How do you like your accommodations? I think it's quite cozy. Maybe a bit dark, but all the same." Murtagh wasn't wearing the same armor he was when he'd captured Eragon. Instead, his armor was all white with intricate, golden designs embedded into it. He had donned a dark red cloak with white seams. He also had a belt on that had eight large, red gemstones that matched the color of Zar'roc, which was resting in its scabbard on Murtagh's hip.

"The room was Galbatorix's idea, you know. He can be a very generous ruler when he wants to be. He even gave me this new ensemble as a reward for your capture along with much more. He's still in a very good mood at the moment," Murtagh said, the grin still plastered onto his face. "He'd like to meet his newest servant." Murtagh lifted up the shackles he was holding and jingled them merrily. He started walking toward Eragon and when he got close enough Eragon swung his fist at Murtagh's jaw but was stopped an inch away by a ward.

Murtagh frowned and grabbed Eragon's wrists. Eragon tried to jerk away but Murtagh was just as strong as him and was able to clamp on the shackles.

"Don't make this harder for yourself," Murtagh said quietly. "It'll be easier for us both if you just behave. Galbatorix is being very generous at the moment and if you anger him, he may just throw you in his dungeon with the rest of his starving prisoners." Then a wry smile appeared on Murtagh's face. "Believe me, you don't want to be down there. It smells like horse manure."

Eragon decided he'd wait until he got to Galbatorix to do anything rash, but he was determined to keep his freedom, no matter what the cost. _I don't care if Galbatorix throws me in his dungeon_, he thought. _I won't willingly give up my mind to him and doom Alagaesia forever._

Thus, Eragon followed Murtagh out the door.

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**Leave me a review, telling me what you think! Constructive criticism is appreciated.**


	3. 3: Planning

**This is last of the pre-written chapters I have. The next chapters are going to take a little longer to get put up. But enjoy!**

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**Planning**

Nasuada sat in her large red pavilion, Jormundur on her right side, Elva standing close by. Saphira had snaked her head into the tent, to take part in the meeting that was about to take place. The atmosphere was stale and cold, as she waited for Orrin, Narheim, Garzhvog, and the elves to arrive. With each passing day that Eragon was missing, the leaders became more restless. Nasuada was starting to become anxious as well and she wished Arya would inform her of her progress.

When Saphira had come to Nasuada that morning, seeming distressed and requesting a meeting saying that she had news of Eragon, Nasuada immediately sent her messenger boy to retrieve the others. The elves under Blodhgarm's command were the first to arrive, as they were faster than the others. They filed in past Saphira's large neck, and stood by the central pole holding the tent up. Garzhvog was the next to appear. His loud footsteps shook the framework of the pavilion, as if an earthquake had started up. Tilting back his head and exposing his neck he asked, "Why am I here, Lady Nightstalker?"

"Your questions will be answered as soon as Orrin and Narheim arrive." As if on cue, Orrin came stomping in, followed by two of his guard, who stationed themselves on either side of Saphira's neck by the entrance. He had a red stain soaked into his shirt. It looked fresh, and seemed to have come from the sloshing glass of red wine he recklessly held.

"Do you see what that blasted fool of a messenger boy made me do?" he said red faced and jabbing a finger at his collar. "He needs to learn to warn people before he just blunders into their tents uninvited! He nearly gave me a heart-attack!"

Nasuada was used to these kinds of reactions from Orrin. He always had a tendency to overreact when some unpleasantness occurred. For that reason, though also for the sake of the Varden, she hoped Saphira's news was good. "I'll be sure to let him know to knock before he enters your tent next time." She assured him. Orrin grunted in reply and sat down on a stool nearby.

Narheim arrived a few minutes later, his long beard braided and resting on his chest. When he had situated himself, Nasuada said, "I have called you all here today, because Saphira has some news of Eragon she wishes to share with you." All heads turned to Saphira who let out a puff of smoke. Nasuada felt Saphira invade her mind, and she could feel her dread and despair.

_Something has happened to Eragon_, she said. _I can feel it through our bond. Some misfortune has befallen him and we need to do something_. _Now._

It was as Nasuada feared. An immense sense of hopelessness pervaded her mind. Tears built up in her eyes and threatened to spill over. _We're doomed. All the years . . . all the years put into building up the Varden. All the years we fought against Galbatorix wasted. And for what! So Eragon could quench his thirst for revenge against the Ra'zac?_

"Blast it!" Orrin exclaimed. "I knew this would happen! He never should have gone off on his own. How are we supposed to fight off Galbatorix and Murtagh now when we've lost one Rider and Galbatorix has perhaps gained another?"

Nasuada massaged her temples. "I don't know, Orrin. We can't know for sure if he's been captured or if he's just hurt, but we need to have Arya come back to the Varden. We'll need all the warriors we can get if we're to have any chance of winning this war."

"You still believe we can win without Eragon?" Narheim said, incredulity apparent in his voice.

Blodhgarm, who had remained silent, along with the other elves, said, "There is still another egg in Galbatorix's possession. If we could retrieve it somehow, we may stand a more even chance of winning. It would be unwise to try any sort of rescue attempt if Eragon has been captured and taken straight to Uru'baen, which I fear is most likely the case."

"An even chance?" Orrin spoke up again. "That's still only one, _new_, untrained Dragon Rider against three very powerful Dragon Riders. If there is no chance of getting Eragon back, then I say this war is over." Blodhgarm didn't respond, but the expression on his face gave Nasuada the impression that he knew more than he let on. She considered asking him about it, but refrained from doing so. If he wanted to tell the whole of them what was on his mind, he would have. She decided to implore him later.

Garzhvog turned to Blodhgarm and asked, "How would we steal this egg, Wolfman?" his voice gurgled as he spoke.

Jormundur cleared his throat to get their attention. "If I may speak . . .?"

"Go ahead, Jormundur." Nasuada said.

"I think you should consult Jeod if you're planning on stealing an egg. He was, in fact, the one who discovered the book that uncovered the location of a secret passage in Uru'baen leading to the eggs."

"Does he still have the book?"

"I'm not sure, but he probably would have memorized something that important. We could ask him."

Nasuada leaned back and drummed her middle finger on the arm of her chair. _Perhaps we could rescue Eragon if we had another Rider to infiltrate Uru'baen. _Nasuada leaned to the side and faced her messenger boy. "Bring me Jeod."

The boy nodded and hurried away. "Don't forget to knock!" Nasuada yelled after him. As the boy left, an image of Arya appeared on Nasuada's scrying mirror.

"Arya! I've been waiting for you to contact me. What has taken so long?"

"Nothing. I've been unable to locate Eragon, but I did find a campsite. It seemed disturbed. The ashes of a fire had been scattered about and there is a large patch of dirt that has been saturated with blood. I'll keep looking, but his trail seems to have stopped here."

"There is no need for you to continue your search. You are to return to the Varden immediately."

Arya looked confused. "Why? Has Eragon already returned?"

Hating the words she was saying and wishing they were not true she said, "No, Arya, he has not returned. We are fairly certain he's been captured."

Arya stared in shock and alarm. "How can you know this?"

"Saphira told me. She could sense it through her bond with him. We are in a meeting now to discuss how best to move ahead. Would you join us?" Arya nodded, and Nasuada turned the mirror to face the congregation.

Jeod entered the room then and spread his arms apart. "What can I do for you, My Lady?"

"Jeod, I understand that you were in the possession of a book that unveiled a secret passage in Uru'baen. Is this true?"

"I had the book at one point, yes. But no longer."

"Do you remember what it said?"

"Of course. I tried to memorize as much as I could of it in case the Empire ever confiscated it."

"Do you think this passage would still work? Or would Galbatorix have moved the eggs to prevent anyone from stealing another."

Jeod thought for a moment, and then said, "No, I don't think he would have moved them. That was the safest place in Uru'baen. He may have put more spells and wards around it though."

Nasuada got up from her chair and walked over to a large round table with an enlarged and very detailed map filling its surface. She tapped her ringed index finger on the point of the map that said 'Uru'baen' and said, "Jeod . . . I need you to tell me exactly how one would get to, and navigate within, the secret passage." Walking over to where Nasuada stood, Jeod glanced at the map for a short period of time then turned to her.

"I cannot show you anything on this map. Though it is admirably detailed for one who doesn't live in Uru'baen, it is not detailed enough for me to show you anything. Luckily for you though, I _do_ have a _very_ detailed map of Uru'baen that I received from an anonymous source back when I found the book. It is in my tent if you would like me to retrieve it."

Elation filled Nasuada, and she couldn't help but smile, "Yes! Please hurry." Jeod rushed out of the room and in his hurry, he bumped into Saphira's neck by the entrance and nearly fell over.

"Nasuada", said Arya from in the mirror.

"Yes?"

"You are speaking a lot of retrieving that last egg. Have you already given up hope in finding Eragon?"

"Of course not! But to be entirely safe we need to have a plan B. If Eragon has in fact been captured, we need to know what to do."

Arya paused to consider that, then said, "That may be true, but you do not even seem to have a plan A." This gave Nasuada pause. She was fairly certain that Eragon had been captured, but there was still a chance that he was only hurt somewhere in the Empire.

"I think it's safe to say that Eragon has been taken captive, Arya. Any other explanation is too unlikely. What could harm Eragon but Murtagh, Thorn, or Galbatorix?"

"There is still a chance. Saphira and I could go looking for him." At this Saphira lifted her head, which had been resting on the floor of the pavilion, and seemed to listen with a little more interest.

"No!" Nasuada exclaimed, "Definitely not! We need you two more than ever now with Eragon gone. I can't risk losing either of you."

Arya looked frustrated. "You are making it harder and harder for anyone to find him! If he _is_ hurt somewhere, it will only be a matter of time before someone from the Empire finds him first."

"You speak as if you know for a fact he isn't captured."

"You speak as if you know that he is!" Arya exclaimed, her brow knotted in exasperation. Jeod walked into the pavilion then, burdened by a large map that appeared quite heavy.

"Enough. I tire of this arguing. I expect you to follow my orders. Return to the Varden immediately. Whatever you miss of the meeting I shall inform you of when you return. Be gone."

Arya hesitated, then nodded, a slight look of derision on her expression. Before she let go of the spell though, she said quietly so only Nasuada could hear, "You have no hold over me or any of the elves. We fight with you because we choose to. You would do well to keep that in mind before you order me about." And with that she disappeared from the mirror leaving in its place a reflection of Nasuada as she stared into it.

Nasuada collapsed into her chair and let out a stressed sigh. _Why must it be so hard to please everyone?, _she asked herself. Again she massaged her temples, trying to dispel the headache that had crept up on her.

"Jeod, I very much appreciate the help you've given me, but I would rather we wait until tomorrow to discuss this. In any case, Arya should be here when we do."

Jeod's friendly smile vanished and his heavily laden arms sagged. He had just carried the heavy map from his tent all the way to the pavilion—which was no short walk—and now he had to take it back. Nevertheless he nodded in obedience and turned to walk out. When he opened the flap of the tent, she got a glimpse outside. The sky had already turned black, and no one seemed to be outside.

"You may all leave. We will meet again when Arya returns to discuss the secret passage." They all filed out of the pavilion. All except Saphira. "What is it Saphira?" Nasuada asked. Saphira lifted her head and looked at Nasuada. Warm breath washed over her face and she could smell brimstone.

_I am leaving to go look for Eragon,_ she said determinedly.

"What? Saphira you can't! We need you."

_I was not asking your permission. I just thought I would let you know where I was going before I left. I do not care much whether Eragon is in Galbatorix's possession or lying hurt somewhere in the Empire. I will not sit idly when my partner of soul and mind is in danger. I will find him, even if it means tearing Uru'baen to the ground and burning all who get in my way Including you._ With that, she snaked her head out of the pavilion.

Nasuada jumped out of her seat and ran out of the pavilion. The effort caused her some slight dizziness because of her wounds, but she paid it no mind. "Saphira, no!" She had already taken to the air, traveling north. Her wings silver from the light of the moon. She watched Saphira grow smaller and smaller, her former hopelessness returning. _We're falling apart_. she thought. Now, without a Rider or Dragon to defend the Varden, she knew not what to do. All her plans to invade Feinster and the other Empire cities went out the window. All she could do was sit and wait, and hope that Saphira would come back.

At a loss for what to do, she decided to go inquire of Blodgharm, to see what it was he knew during the meeting. She set off at a walk, leaving her Nighthawks behind. On her way to Blodgharm she stopped, realizing she didn't know where she was going. He was usually wherever Eragon was, but with Eragon absent she wondered where Blodgharm would have gone. She decided to check Eragon's tent. Sure enough, as she approached, Blodgharm stepped out from the shadows to meet her. With his deep blue fur and the silence of his movements, he was impossible to see in the dark of the night, but his bright yellow eyes gave his presence away.

"Blodgharm", she called. "I was just looking for you." She waited for him to say something, but he merely stood there, his nostril flaring slightly. He seemed detached from himself in a way she often saw Eragon look when he was speaking to Saphira through their bond. She didn't ponder it long though. "I was wondering if you had any information you may have wanted to share with me, but not the whole congregation earlier. Any information you may have could be advantageous to the success of our campaign."

The fur on the back of his neck prickled in response. "I do not know of what you speak. I cannot offer you anything you do not already know."

What? She was sure he'd been hinting at something. Was he lying to her? She thought to asking him about it but shoved the thought away. She didn't want to insult him. She also didn't think he would voluntarily lie to her.

"I see", she said, and decided to move on to another question that was bothering her. "I don't know if you noticed her flight, but Saphira has left in search of Eragon." At this, Blodgharm's fur prickled and he regained his curiously detached expression. "The warriors are going to become suspicious of the fact that Eragon and Saphira are no where to be seen. Rumors and gossip will float around and that is the last thing we need. Troop morale is low enough as it is."

At this, Blodgharm cut in, "We know what to do. My companions and I will create a likeness of Eragon and Saphira with magic. So long as no one touches them, physically or mentally, the ruse should work." As he spoke, the other elven guards stepped out of the shadows to stand behind Blodgharm. "It will take us some time to put the spell together though."

Feeling a little better about the situation, she thanked Blodgharm and the other elves, and walked back to her tent. Suddenly feeling the fatigue of the day catch up with her, she made ready to rest. Pulling her sleeves up, she examined the bandages on her arms. Blood had already saturated them. She knew she should have them changed but didn't feel like calling anyone to help her. Laying down, she closed her eyes and let her dreams push away her worries.

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**Ok what do you think. I don't like to write in Nasuada's POV so there probably won't be very many more. Let me know if you think I'm staying IC. I know I hate reading OOC fics so staying IC is what I strive for.**


	4. 4: Making a Difference

**Yep, I'm back! Terribly sorry about the delay. Have been busy with school/exams etc and have had a bit of writer's block, but now that the year is over, (senior now, woo!) I should be uploading more over the summer. As always, hope you enjoy.**

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**Making a Difference**

In silence, Eragon followed Murtagh down a long, dark, corridor, big enough for two well-sized dragons to walk side by side. Echoes rang out with every step they took, adding nicely to the ominous effect the hall had. At the end of the hall, nearly a mile away, was a very large, arched, golden door that could easily be seen despite its distance. Ten-foot-long, red Imperial flags donned either side of the hallway and were about twenty feet apart from each other, with doors of various sizes dotting the walls between them.

Instead of walking straight for the door, Murtagh would walk a few paces, stop, mutter something under his breath, and then continue on. At that pace it took them over 25 minutes to get to the massive door.

As they approached, Eragon noticed a design embossed on the surface of the gold door. It was a life-sized oak tree, the leaves of which formed an arching canopy that joined with the roots below to create a great circle around the trunk. Sprouting from either side of the trunk's midsection were two thick bundles of branches, which divided the space within the circle into quarters. In the top-left quarter was a carving of an army of elves marching through a thick forest. In the top-right quarter were humans building castles and forging swords. In the bottom left, Urgals burning down a village and killing the inhabitants. In the bottom right, dwarves mining caves filled with gems and veins of ore. Coiled in the very center of the bole of the tree was a dragon that held the end of its tail in its mouth, as if biting itself.

Murtagh pulled on the handle of the door, and it slowly and silently swung open. Stepping inside, Eragon was amazed at the immense size of the throne room. It was large enough for several medium-sized dragons to fly around with ease. A line of flameless lanterns mounted on iron poles ran straight out from either side of the entranceway, illuminating the patterned floor and nothing else. They ended nearly five hundred feet away, near the base of a broad dais, upon which rested a throne. On the throne sat a single black figure.

Eragon was looking around himself warily when Murtagh gave him a push to move forward. He wondered where Shruikan was. As he walked, the figure on the throne stirred, and a deep and rich voice, imbued with authority greater than Ajihad or Oromis said, "Welcome, welcome. I have waited too long to meet you. Come forward, let us have a talk." His voice echoed off the walls and ceiling of the dark cavern.

When they were only five feet away from the dais, Murtagh stopped, prompting Eragon to do so as well. Galbatorix leaned forward and inspected Eragon intently. Eragon glared back, but had trouble maintaining eye contact with the king's unsettling gaze. His eyes were a hard black, and they showed little white around the irises.

Leaning back from his study and shifting his focus to Murtagh, Galbatorix said, "Thank you, Murtagh." With a flick of his wrist, Galbatorix beckoned Murtagh over to him. The king's eyes followed Murtagh as he stepped up the dais and stood to the right of Galbatorix's throne, his bright armor reflecting the light of the flameless lanterns.

Galbatorix slid his focus back to Eragon. His eyes glanced at Eragon's hands and he frowned. "You shackled him?", he said, addressing Murtagh.

Murtagh shifted nervously, his previously triumphant expression vanished. "He tried to attack me, sir. He needed to be restrained."

Galbatorix raised an eyebrow at him. "You could not handle a sedated, unarmed man?" The muscles in Murtagh's jaw clenched, but before he had a chance to say anything, Galbatorix waved his hand, "No matter, we will speak of this later." He lifted his hand slightly in Eragon's direction and muttered nonchalantly, "Jierda." The shackles snapped open and clanked to the ground.

"Eragon. . . . I'm so glad to have finally met you in person," Galbatorix said, in a deceptively sincere voice. "How did you enjoy your rooms the past two nights? You slept for so long we wondered if you would ever awaken."

Eragon was at a loss for what to do. He knew he couldn't escape, and fighting Galbatorix was a battle he knew he wouldn't win. Especially when he was lacking a sword and the ability to cast spells. Entering the throne room, he knew he had passed a point of no return, and delaying the inevitable seemed pointless. Galbatorix was still watching him expectantly, waiting for Eragon to say something. "Enough of the pleasantries, what do you want," Eragon said, knowing fully well what it was Galbatorix wanted.

Galbatorix's kind expression darkened a little. "So be it," he said. "What I want is for you to swear your allegiance to me. I want to make you more powerful than you could ever dream. To teach you things not even the elves know. To rebuild the Dragon Riders to their former glory, with _you_ as my right hand," At this, Murtagh snapped his attention onto Galbatorix, an expression of shock upon his face before he collected his expression. "Saphira would be the mother of her race, appreciated and respected above all others. Now. . . . will you accept my offer?"

Eragon didn't have to think about it. "I would never join a traitor like you."

Galbatorix laughed mockingly. "Is that so? How disappointing. I normally like to . . . _convince_ my guests to give me their oaths voluntarily, but seeing as I'm in a particular hurry, I suppose I'm going to have to force it out of you." And with that Galbatorix stabbed his mind out at Eragon.

Eragon's mind exploded in pain as Galbatorix tore at his mind seeking to supress his thoughts. He tried every defensive technique Oromis had ever taught him to defend his mind, but Galbatorix's presence could not be ignored. He grasped each of his thoughts and bound them in iron chains, prohibiting Eragon from moving, and little by little Eragon found himself losing control of his mind. In the next minute, he couldn't think anymore. It was as if his own mind didn't exist anymore, and it was replaced with Galbatorix's.

He sifted through every memory Eragon had created, paying particular attention when he saw Oromis and Glaedr in his memories. He now knew the exact way to Ellesmera, the prophecy Angela foretold to Eragon, the deaths of the Ra'zac, and many other critically important information. After he'd gleaned all the information Eragon had available on his enemies, he payed more attention to the personal memories Eragon had obtained, trying to decipher Eragon's true name. If he'd had any control of his mind, Eragon would have felt violated, embarrassed, for Galbatorix now knew everything about him, all his successes, all his failures, his strengths, his faults. Within minutes Galbatorix had uttered Eragon's true name.

Next, he made Eragon swear oath after oath, binding him as tightly as he could, until he finally let him have his mind back. Eragon gasped and collapsed to the floor as he regained control of his body and mind.

Confusion was the first thing Eragon felt, then he realized what had just happened. "No..." he whispered. This couldn't be happening. He shook his head, trying to wake up from the horrible nightmare, but to no avail.

"Stand up," commanded Galbatorix. When Eragon remained on his hands and knees, Galbatorix spoke his true name and, again, commanded him to rise. Eragon felt the strange urge to do as he was told and stood up on his feet. Galbatorix smiled approvingly, which only helped to irritate Eragon further. "Now that's _much_ better. I'm sure you're wondering how you can lend your services to me, but all shall be answered in the morning. Murtagh, please escort Eragon to his chambers. I'm sure he has plenty to think about." Murtagh stepped down from the dais and started walking to the door. Eragon followed and from behind him heard Galbatorix call, "Come back here an hour before sunrise and we will discuss your future."

When they had left the throne room Eragon looked at Murtagh's face and noticed that he was scowling. Eragon couldn't understand what would put him in such a bad mood, especially after he had just been praised by Galbatorix. He put the thought away though and decided to devise a plan to escape the mess he'd gotten himself into. He thought about running, but the success rate for that didn't seem very high. Fighting them off would just be folly in itself. All he could think of was how weak he had been. He had been so determined to keep his freedom beforehand, and yet it was stripped away from him in a matter of minutes.

Murtagh stopped by a large black door with mounted torches on either side of it. He pulled out a key and unlocked it, swinging it inward and letting light from the hallway illuminate the room. Murtagh shoved the key into Eragon's hand and walked back from where he came without a second glance.

Unsure of what else to do, Eragon stepped into the dark room and was suprised by how much bigger it was than the cell he'd been in. At the far left end of the room was a large bed with deep sapphire sheets and the Empire's flag - the flame - engraved into the headboard. Book cases towered on either side of the bed, though empty. At the wall opposite the bed, flames burned low in a highly decorative obsidian fireplace, The room was devoid of any windows, and standing against one wall was a medium sized dresser, which, upon closer inspection, was completely empty aside from the dirty clothes he had been wearing before he was captured, Aren, and the Belt of Beloth the Wise.

Eragon picked up Aren with confusion. Why would Galbatorix give him this back? And why would he return his old clothes instead of a fresh imperial uniform? Deciding he'd wait until morning to don his old armor, he walked over to the far end of the room to inspect the bed he would be sleeping on. He patted it a few time to make sure it was safe, then slouched into the bed waiting for unconsciousness to smother his awareness into oblivion.

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**(Yeah, this chapter was a bit short and I know I keep saying I'll make them longer, but this one was hard to write for some reason, that's why it took so long for me to publish). Let me know if you see any grammatical errors, and please leave a review :) I'm excited to give you the next chapter so you wont have to wait too long.**


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